


Road Trip Zen and the Art of Mixtapes

by Bk_Betty



Series: The Adventures of Jax and Issa [5]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sons of Anarchy, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Not Canon Compliant, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bk_Betty/pseuds/Bk_Betty
Summary: Jax and Issa hit the open road. Hilarity and loving truths ensue!
Relationships: Jax Teller/Original Character(s), Jax Teller/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Adventures of Jax and Issa [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884274
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	1. You're My Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a songfic since I incorporate lyrics into the story. But I did it a bit differently. Each section of the story is named after the song I use in said section. Hopefully it makes sense. Enjoy!

* * *

**_You’re My Best Friend - Queen_ **

_Ooh, you make me live_

_Whatever this world can give to me_

_It's you you're all I see_

_Ooh, you make me live now, honey_

_Ooh, you make me live_

Jax pulls into Issa’s driveway, cutting the engine of his truck. He contemplates honking the horn just to fuck with her. He thinks better of it when he remembers they’re going to be on the road for roughly four hours together. As soon as he gets out, she’s opening her front door.

She's road trip appropriately dressed in cut off denim shorts and a well worn The Jimi Hendrix Experience Live at Berkeley t-shirt. Her mom found the t-shirt at a thrift shop in Vegas the weekend her and Tig eloped. The history of it means the value of the shirt extends far beyond Issa’s love of Jimi Hendrix and his (to quote Issa) “life altering expression of inner discovery and turmoil through revolutionary guitar playing”. Isabelle, much like her mom, is an unabashed music snob.

She’d cut off the sleeves of the t-shirt ages ago, so her tattoos are on display. They’ve been together for over a year now but seeing his crow on her still turns his insides into a butterfly sanctuary. She admitted once, when they were hidden under the covers, that having his crow felt like she carried a piece of him with her. They fucked so hard that night, they broke her bed.

Jax meets Issa halfway, pulling her in for a kiss. She all but melts into him, her hand finding its way into his hair. He only meant to give her a quick hello kiss but he’s been out of town for the last few days on a business trip. And he is really fucking horny.

Issa reluctantly breaks off the kiss, patting him on the chest. “As much as I’d like to continue this, big guy, we need to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in rush hour traffic on our way there.”

There is Pismo Beach, a four hour drive from Charming. They’re headed to The Classic at Pismo Beach, a three day car show. They went last year, their first road trip together as a couple and it was one of the best weekends of their lives. They decided to make it an annual thing, especially since it’s only a month off from Issa’s birthday.

“Make it up to me tonight?” he whispers in her ear, letting his lips brush against the outside of it.

He feels her shiver and he can’t help feeling all kinds of smug about it. She manages a dazed little nod before he plants one last kiss on the side of her face. He lets her go and swivels towards her apartment. He grabs the few things piled neatly next to the door and locks it behind him.

Issa is throwing her large duffle bag behind the bench seat when he returns to his truck. It never fails to surprise him how light she packs. Sexist as it may be, Jax always assumed women took a shit ton of luggage with them on trips. Gemma certainly did. But Issa is both practical and lazy when it comes to packing. He would bet his life savings that her duffle bag consists of: several different band t-shirts, mid-calf cargo shorts and denim cut offs, maxi dresses in various patterns for evenings, underwear, a small toiletry bag and two pairs of shoes.

She doesn’t bother much with makeup because she believes it takes away from time she could be sleeping. And in Jax’s opinion, she doesn’t need it. The only other thing she has is a small crossbody bag she uses like a purse. Happy always drilled it into her to keep her belongings close to her body. She’s also of the belief that carrying a purse means less hands for drinking and eating. Both of which she’s quite the fan of doing.

All of this makes her sound like a tomboy but she’s far from it. She embraces her femininity with no need to shout it with makeup, fussy clothes and heels. To Jax, that makes her more of a woman than any girly-girl he’s ever met.

Issa waves a stack of CD cases in his face as he makes his way to her side. She seems rather pleased with herself, so there’s no telling what’s on them.

“You are the only person I know who still makes mixed CDs and then insists on calling them mixtapes.”

“Please. If I could figure out a way to bring my turntable and a box of vinyls with us, I would. Playlists are lazy. Mixtapes mean you give a shit.”

Jax blinks at her a few times before shaking his head. “God, you’re a music snob.”

“You mispronounced music aficionado, my darling.”

Jax rolls his eyes but secretly loves every damn minute of their bickering. Sarcasm is their love language.

Issa pulls out one of her endless lists and starts reading off items as if she’s a teacher doing roll call.

“Snacks?”

Jax holds up a medium sized plastic bin in one hand and a camp cooler in the other. “Check.”

“Drinks?”

“Dude, I just showed you the cooler.”

“I assumed the cooler had refrigerated snacks.”

“When have we ever road tripped with refrigerated snacks?”

“Well what else was I supposed to think? I haven't done the drinks call out yet.”

“I was being proactive,” Jax tosses both the bin and cooler behind his seat. “Not my fault you wanna play school teacher.”

As soon as the sentence is out of his mouth, his mind goes to Issa dressed in a pencil skirt and professional blouse. Glasses perched on her nose as she sits on a teacher’s desk and tells Jax he’s been a naughty boy...

“Stop with the slutty teacher fantasies. We don’t have time for you to run into the house and jack off.”

Jax waggles his eyebrows at her. “Orrrr... you can help me take care of it. I get off a lot faster when you’re involved.”

He has her backed up against the passenger door, hand already palming her ass. His head dips down to the crook of her neck and Issa whimpers helplessly.

Forty minutes and a detour to her couch later, they’re on the road.

* * *

_Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had_

_I've been with you such a long time_

_You're my sunshine and I want you to know_

_That my feelings are true_

_I really love you_

_Oh, you're my best friend_

“Okay then Mr. Fancy Man Who Somehow Knows Everything About Music…”

“That’s a long name. Don’t think I can fit it all on a business card,” Jax interrupts, earning him a death glare.

“Name _your_ favorite drum solos in a rock song - past or present.”

They’ve been on the road for about an hour and somehow got into a rather heated discussion about rock bands. Jax made the unfortunate mistake of saying Dave Grohl was an overrated drummer. He might as well have told Issa he shot Santa Claus, the way she all but threw her drink at him.

“Master of Puppets is high up there.”

“Lars Ulrich is immediately disqualified because he’s a raging douche who can’t even play his classic drum work anymore. Diva prick.”

“If we disqualified all raging douchebags, there wouldn’t be any good music left.”

“Touché,” Issa concedes. “You may proceed.”

“All I’m saying is Dave Grohl gets more credit than he deserves just because he was in Nirvana.”

“That’s because Nirvana was a game changing band, you uncultured swine.”

Jax side eyes her. “How about we stop hurling insulting names at our loving partners.”

“Well if our loving partners would stop hurling insults at clearly talented musicians, we wouldn’t be forced to point out they’re idiots.”

He’s about to lovingly call her a raging bitch when she lets out what can only be described as a county fair hog squeal. She turns up the volume on his radio as the opening strains of “You’re My Best Friend” start up. Issa _lives_ for Freddie Mercury’s voice.

She snaps her fingers, singing along. Her feet, which are hanging out the truck window, are also keeping up with the beat. Jax takes his eyes off the road for a brief moment, smiling at her antics.

Tig always said she inherited Marisa’s devotion to music. And much like Marisa, her musical tastes run wide and varied. She often jokingly quips, “Marjorie, please! I enjoy all the meats of our musical stew.”

Being friends with her for so long has definitely broadened Jax’s musical horizons. He remembers summers where she’d drag him to record shops and concerts up and down the California highways. Music is as important to her as baking. Jax learned early on that she uses it to express her emotions. Whatever she chose to listen to at any given time was pretty much her version of a mood ring. To ignore a chosen song’s flow of lyrics was to deny himself a glimpse inside her very soul. They stumbled their way through their friendship understanding each other through music. And it still bonds them together now that they are lovers.

As they drive along, one random song flows into another. There’s not much rhyme or reason to it. Or none that Jax can figure out.

“How do you go from The Dixie Chicks to Queen?”

Issa claps her hands, bringing her legs into the truck and sitting up straighter. Ohhhh boy.

“There is a fine art to curating a mixtape, my good sir.”

“Oh for the love of…” Jax really wishes he never opened his big, stupid mouth.

“You have to start out with something mellow yet captivating. Think Crawling Back to You or anything by india.Arie. Then you work your way up to energizing and fun, throwing in some guilty pleasures like Jump Around or even Stayin’ Alive. Then slide into deep cuts of the Death on Two Legs variety. Final stretch is straight up, balls to the wall rock or hard core rap or both, depending on your preference and destination.”

Jax is rendered momentarily speechless.

“You have put an alarming amount of thought into this.”

“Great mixtapes aren’t gonna make themselves, Timmy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Stop falling down wells then.”

“First of all, I didn’t fall, I tripped. Second, it was an unusually deep pothole, not a well.”

“Sure thing, Jan.”

“I hate you.”

She shifts in her seat, moving into his space. Her mouth is right at his ear when she says, “Weren’t saying that the other night when you fucked me against the side of the clubhouse.”

“You’ve got the mouth of a long haul trucker.”

“Weren’t saying _that_ when you had your dick in it this morning on my couch.”

Jax can only smirk in response because Issa is really, really, _really_ good at giving head.

* * *

_Oh, you're the first one when things turn out bad_

_You know I'll never be lonely_

_You're my only one_

_And I love the things_

_I really love the things that you do_

_Oh, you're my best friend_

Jax pulls his truck up to an open gas pump, Issa immediately jumping out. She loves pumping gas, claims it feels liberating. He’s pretty sure she just likes sniffing the gas fumes.

“I’m gonna hit the head. Want anything?”

“From the bathroom?” she asks, being purposely obtuse.

He flips her off as a response.

He starts to walk away when she calls out, “ A Drumstick would be nice!”

He finishes up in the restroom, getting her ice cream cone and some beef jerky. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a petite redhead giving him a slow, careful once over. She fluffs up her hair before settling in behind him in line. He can’t say he’s not flattered but he doesn’t feel like dealing with a come on right now. Issa isn’t the jealous type, for the most part, but sometimes women get especially aggressive when they flirt with him. He doesn’t want to bail Issa out should Red not take a hint. It would really put a damper on their road trip.

As he makes his way outside, Red is hot on his heels. Being polite, he holds the door for her but doesn’t smile or do anything to encourage her. That, however, doesn’t seem to work as a deterrent.

“Cool shirt,” she offers.

Jax looks down at the simple black t-shirt with SAMCRO written in large, white letters. There is absolutely nothing cool about it.

“Thanks,” he says, not stopping to engage in conversation.

Once again, that doesn’t seem to deter her. “I’m Missy.”

She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, jutting her hip out and smiling up at him with predatory eyes. Old Jax would have taken what she was offering without hesitation. Maybe even fucked her in the restroom before going about his day. He isn’t even remotely tempted now.

“Nice name. Have a good day,” he gives her a neutral smile and starts to turn away.

“And yours is…”

She is determined, he’ll give her that.

“Flattered but taken,” he jogs his head towards his truck.

Missy looks in the direction he indicated, confusion crossing over her face. When Jax also looks over, Issa is watching them. Instead of the jealous scowl most people would expect, she is positively glowing. She has a huge smile practically splitting her face in two. Then she has the nerve to send the woman a jaunty little wave. The would be flirter stares, mouth hanging slightly open. She manages to return the wave but is clearly baffled by the whole thing.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend your…”

“Girlfriend,” Jax supplies.

Missy nods, eyes never leaving Issa. “She’s not homicidal, is she?”

“Not usually this early in the day... well, there was that one time...” Jax trails off when he notices the alarm on Missy’s face.

He figures it’s best to just walk away.

He gets into the driver’s seat, handing Isabelle her Drumstick ice cream cone. He reaches back for a soda and takes a sip. That’s when Issa decides to roll down her window, happily yelling out to Missy, “He fucks as good as he looks!”

Missy’s eyes bug out of her head as Issa gives her a goddamn thumbs up and everything.

Jax spits out his soda, Issa quickly patting him on his back. When he gets air flowing back in his lungs, he starts up the truck and heads out again.

“Some women would be jealous seeing another woman hit on their man.”

Issa shrugs, tearing into her ice cream treat. “Yeah but you chose me. It’s a testament to my awesomeness that such a hot piece of man meat wants me.”

“Please never let those words leave your mouth again.”

“Which words? Testament to my awesomeness?”

“No. You know what I mean.”

“Not really. I can’t read your mind.”

As he waits for the stoplight at the entrance back onto the highway, Jax gives her a blank stare. Issa is never happier than when she’s taunting him. The little shit.

With a sigh, he answers. “Hot piece of man meat. Never say that again.”

Issa grins like an even more deranged version of The Joker. How she manages to get him to say and do the most outlandish things is beyond him. He glances down at her mouth as she licks around the top of the Drumstick. The tip of her tongue flicks up, gathering the ice cream into her mouth. She drags her thumb across the bottom of her lip, sucking the white cream off of it.

Okay, maybe it’s not so beyond him.


	2. Have a Drink on Me - AC/DC

_Have a Drink on Me - AC/DC_

Because she can’t help herself, Issa always has a strategy for any type of festival - from concerts to bike rallies. The Classic is no exception. Today is what she describes as “getting our bearings” day. Which means walking from one side of the car show to the other, mapping out vendor booths and event tents. Her plan would work a lot better if Jax didn’t have the attention span of a toddler on speed.

By the fourth deviation from her strategy, Issa gives up and they spend the day walking around aimlessly. Although Jax’s first love is motorcycles, classic cars run a close second. John took him and Opie to a ton of classic car shows growing up. His enthusiasm has only grown over the years and he loves that Issa shares it with him.

He also loves seeing the surprise on some people’s (mostly dudes… okay always dudes) faces when Issa asks them knowledgeable questions about their cars. But that surprise is quick to morph into delight and Issa ends up making a new car friend. She collects them like S&H Green Stamps.

As they say goodbye to an older man who enthusiastically shared the details of his 1935 Bugatti Type 57 restoration, Issa’s phone pings. She pulls it out of the side pocket of her cargo shorts and immediately lights up.

“Pamela and Cain are up for going out tonight! She said they have a new strand of weed they want us to try. It’s called the Bruce Banner strain.”

“Does that mean it’s going to make us angry or turn us green?”

“When has weed ever made us angry?”

Jax huffs out a laugh. “When we didn’t have any.”

“True,” Issa nods, half distracted by her phone. “Are you cool with Bill’s Place around 9 tonight?”

“Fine with me. We’ll just have to take a cab back to the hotel. Cain and I always end up wasted trying to keep up with the two of you.”

Pamela and Cain are Pamela Barnes and Cain Mullen, a hippie sort of couple Jax and Issa met last year. Issa was admiring a silver 1956 Thunderbird convertible when Pamela came up to her, fascinated by Issa’s crow tattoo. Pamela fits the hormonal teenage boy fantasy of a female tattoo artist: long waves of mahogany hair, curves in all the right places and a smile that would tempt even The Pope to sin. Pamela was wearing a Joan Jett & the Blackhearts t-shirt, which launched the two of them into a spirited discussion about music.

When Jax found them in the crowd, Pamela’s husband Cain had joined them. Cain is tall, towering even over Jax. He has broad shoulders, most likely due to his job as a carpenter. The kicker is his thick, shoulder length salt and pepper hair and matching full beard. The two of them were super chill and, much to both Issa and Jax’s delight, had amazing weed.

“Awww poor baby. Can’t run with the big dogs,” Issa chides, squishing his cheeks between one of her hands.

Jax pushes at her shoulder as they continue down a row of cars from the movie American Graffiti. He lets out a low whistle when they come to the 1958 Chevrolet Impala. The owner restored it to near identical condition as the movie version, complete with bright red tail lights. By the time Jax is done drooling, Issa has disappeared and come back with a snow cone. One snow cone.

“Where’s mine?” he all but whines.

“Figured we could share. You know, holding hands, licking the same thing…”

“Must you make everything dirty?”

“Uhh, have you met me?”

They’re aimlessly walking around, holding hands and passing the snow cone between the two of them when Issa stops in her tracks. She smacks Jax hard in the middle of his chest with the back of her hand. Her eyes are wide as saucers and she’s making a sound similar to a continuous dial tone. When Jax follows her stare, he knows why. Gleaming in the California sun is a shiny, jet black 1938 Talbot-Lago T150 CSS.

As much as Issa loves Shelby, she would happily suggest a polyamorous relationship if she could own the Talbot-Lago. They are rare though and insanely expensive, many selling for millions at auction. Issa would probably pimp Jax out for a chance to own one.

“Why would God torture me with such unattainable beauty?”

She sounds like a tragic Jane Austen heroine.

“Do not, I repeat, _do not_ go over there and start hugging the tires.”

“That was one time!” Issa says with haughty indignation.

Issa approaches the car with what can only be described as hushed reverence. The owner, a friendly older man fittingly named Elmer, smiles wide at Issa’s antics.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” he asks, revealing his thick British accent. “It’s been in our family for generations.”

“I feel like I’m having a spiritual awakening just by looking at it,” Issa breaths out, eyes still Bambi sized.

“Oh good lord…” Jax mutters to himself.

As he watches Elmer and Issa chat with increasing exuberance, he realizes he’s not going anywhere any time soon.

* * *

_Whiskey, gin and brandy_

_With a glass I'm pretty handy_

_I'm trying to walk a straight line_

_On sour mash and cheap wine_

_So join me for a drink boys_

_We're gonna make a big noise_

Issa is _wasted._ Before they even left their hotel, she had announced her plans to let loose. And she is taking said plans to heart. Jax has tried to keep track of her drinking but she’s been slamming shots at a dizzying rate. He switched to sodas when he realized she had no intentions of slowing down. Now him and Cain are watching Pamela and Issa dance around the jukebox.

“Man, I never thought I’d meet someone who could keep up with Pamela. Does Issa have a grudge against her liver?”

Jax shakes his head because he can’t stop laughing. Issa is a hot mess right about now and it’s probably the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

“I have honestly never seen her this drunk before. Oh good lord, here they come.”

Issa is doing some odd little sashaying dance over to their table. Pamela is behind her, staying upright by holding onto Issa’s hips. She stops abruptly when AC/DC starts blaring from the jukebox.

“Pammmmieeeeee!!!! This. Is. My. _Jaaaammmmm_!”

“You heard the man! We need some whiskey!!”

The two of them do an about face and head to the bar.

“Should we stop them…” Cain starts to ask but Jax shakes his head vigorously.

“Issa has her switchblade on her. She gets stabby when you try to come between her and booze.”

Cain slaps the table with his beefy hand, head thrown back in uproarious laughter. “Pamela threw a cue ball at me once when I tried to cut her off. Then she spent most of the night apologizing to the damn ball but not to me.”

“Issa starts talking to inanimate objects when she’s drunk too. Kind of like now,” he says, catching sight of her having what appears to be a serious discussion with a bar stool.

“Is she... “ Cain starts, tilting his head to the side.

He stops when Pamela joins the bar stool conversation. Him and Jax watch in morbid fascination as Pamela and Issa pick up the bar stool and take it over to the jukebox. With whiskey in hand, the two start dancing around it, singing at the top of their lungs. This would be embarrassing if half the bar hadn’t joined in.

Issa helps Pamela onto the stool, pulls out cash from god knows where and starts jamming it in the waist of her jeans. Jax should intervene but he’s too busy filming the mother of his future children dirty dancing with a piece of furniture.

_Dizzy, drunk and fightin'_

_On tequila white lightnin'_

_My glass is getting shorter_

_On whiskey, ice and water_

_So come on and have a good time_

_And get blinded out of your mind_

Pamela and Issa have commandeered the karaoke stage, much to the other patrons’ delight. They are singing Have a Drink on Me, surprisingly not off key. This is their fourth AC/DC song, both of them having decided to dedicate their “set” (their words, not Jax’s) to the hard rocking Aussie band.

“Funny enough, they’re probably the best AC/DC tribute band I’ve ever seen,” Cain muses.

“It’s just nice to see her blowing off some steam,” Jax watches Issa laughing, her arm thrown around Pamela’s shoulder. “Her and Lyla have been working so hard and the bakery’s starting to take off. I think she needed this.”

“The two of you seem to be doing well too.”

Jax can’t keep the goofy grin off of his face. When they met Pamela and Cain last year, Issa and Jax had only been dating a month. They were still keeping their relationship under wraps and The Classic was the first time they could be openly affectionate with each other. There have been some minor bumps along the way but he has never been happier. He’d like to think Issa feels the same way.

Jax drains the last of his Coke, nodding at Cain. “We’re in a good place. Great even.”

“You find a good woman, don’t let her get away,” Cain is looking at Pamela with such a warm fondness, Jax feels as if he’s intruding on a private moment.

“When I met Pamela, I was below rock bottom. My second wife had thrown me out, I was doing any kind of drug I could find, just a mess. She fucking saved my life, man. Helped me find happiness that wasn’t chemically induced.”

Jax is having a hard time reconciling Pamela helping someone get their act together when she’s dry humping a mic stand a few feet away. Then again, Issa is practically licking the microphone and tossing her hair around like an 80s video vixen.

“I think my mom and Dad sort of saved each other too. They definitely saved the club. SAMCRO was going down a dark path before they decided to turn things around. I don’t even want to think about what could have happened if they didn’t.”

“Well not for nothing but I’m glad y’all got into building bikes. I got a KR-1 that’s my pride and joy.”

“Wow, really?” Jax **asks** , pride seeping into his voice. “That was the first model I worked on from start to finish. Gave Issa the first one off the line.”

“Man, that’s gonna be worth a fortune one day. Lucky girl.”

“Nah. I’m the lucky one.”

“Then hold on to her for dear life,” Cain slaps Jax on his back.

Their attention goes back to the stage, just in time to see Pamela giving Issa a piggyback ride around the karaoke stage.

Jax is starting to worry a bit about the pair of would be rockers now stumbling around the stage. “We should probably stop them.”

“Have fun with that, pretty boy.”

_So don't worry about tomorrow_

_Take it today_

_Forget about the check_

_We'll get hell to pay_

“Cain used to do porn before we met,” Pamela announces to the table.

Jax coughs as his drink goes down the wrong pipe. Issa is paying him no mind, eyes flitting from Pamela to Cain in wonder.

“If I was single, I’d totally do one of those daddy kink scenes with you.”

Pamela lets out a cackle. “Good lord, girl, what do you think his specialty was?! He did this one called Sittin’ on Daddy’s Lap with… shit, what was her name.”

“Ohhhh shit! Luanne Delaney??” Issa screeches.

Pamela snaps her fingers and points at Issa. “YES!! She had great tits!”

“Wait, how did you know it was with Luanne?” Cain asks, trying in vain to get Pamela’s glass away from her.

Issa waves her hands around, almost smacking Jax in his face. “She’s… the...and...lady.”

“What she's trying to say is Luanne is a SAMCRO old lady. Kind of like our aunt.”

“Holllly shit!” Pamela says far too loudly. “Are her tits still in good shape?”

Issa is nodding enthusiastically while also poking her fingers in Jax’s face. He keeps swatting them away only for her to do it again. By the fifth time, he gives up and accepts his fate.

“Huh. I knew her old man was in a motorcycle club but I don’t think she ever told me the name of it. We only did that one shoot together.”

Issa somehow faceplants into Jax’s lap, which wouldn’t be too bad if she weren’t talking to his dick. Cain isn’t doing much better since Pamela seems intent on braiding his hair.

“I’m thinking it’s time we call it a night,” Cain suggests, chuckling as Pamela lays her head on his shoulder and promptly falls asleep.

“Yeah, this one’s about ten minutes away from snoring down the bar.”

Jax pokes Issa’s side, wanting to wake her up enough to drink some water before they head out. She sits up fast, almost smacking Jax in the face. Again. She sees the water and immediately chugs it. When she’s done, she slams down the glass and lets out a mighty burp. She turns her attention to Cain, eyeing him with the curiosity of a five year old at a zoo.

“So is a fluffer like a porn intern? Or is that more of an entry level position?”


	3. Kissin' You - Total

_Kissin’ You - Total_

_Don't matter who knows_

_I don't care who sees me_

_And thinking about you makes my life complete_

“What do you want to do for dinner?” Issa asks, putting away her purchases from their last day at The Classic.

“Oh I’ve got that covered.”

Jax comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She leans against his chest, savoring the closeness. It’s been a great trip and both of them are a little sad to see it end. Since it’s their last night in Pismo Beach, Jax wants to do something vaguely resembling romantic for her.

“Put on something nice, baby girl. I’m about to romance the fuck out of you,” Jax tells Issa.

He kisses the side of her face as she laughs out loud.

“Can I have a hint as to where we’re going, Mr. Romance?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he starts backing her into the bathroom. “Let’s shower, get dressed and then let me be sappy for once.”

Issa gives him a shy smile but nods in agreement. “If we have to be somewhere at a certain time, maybe we shouldn’t shower together.”

“Are you saying I can’t keep my hands to myself, ma’am?” he asks in mock offense, all the while his hands are in fact not being kept to themselves.

“Uh huh. That’s exactly what… fuck that feels good,” Issa moans as his hand dips between her thighs.

He leans in for a kiss that Issa is more than happy to reciprocate. Before either one of them knows it, she’s sitting on the bathroom counter as he rocks into her. It’s frenzied and fast, a testament to how hungry they always are for each other. He doesn’t play around, doesn’t go slow. He can do that later. Now, he needs to make both of them come. He pulls her even tighter to his chest, ravishing her lips as his hips push her closer and closer to her end.

“My sweet baby girl,” he murmurs into her shoulder.

He presses his hand against the mirror behind them. It gives him the leverage he needs to fuck her deeper. She throws her head back and he immediately descends on her neck. He kisses up and down her throat, nipping at her skin. Her eyes are squeezed tight, lost to the pleasure he’s giving her. She falls first and he’s right there with her. They take a few minutes to collect themselves but are still wrapped around each other.

“I love you,” she smooths a lock of his away from his face. “Don’t know how I got so lucky.”

He whispers ever so lovingly against her lips. “You suck dick like a champ.”

Issa pushes him away, rolling her eyes. “Get out so I can shower in peace, horn dog.”

He chuckles, sucking her into another hot and heavy makeout session. Right when she’s ready to get back up on the counter, he steps away.

“Now you can go take a shower,” he throws her a wink as he leaves the bathroom.

They get ready separately because neither one of them have much self control when it comes to the other. Jax decides to dress up a bit, putting on his best dark wash jeans and a light blue button up shirt. He even tucks the damn thing in, much to Issa’s surprise.

She walks up to him, patting his chest. “You clean up nicely, Mr. Teller.”

He snakes his arm around her waist and brings her to his side. He brushes his lips against her temple before grabbing her hand. “Let’s get outta here before I throw you on the bed. Or that desk. It looks pretty sturdy.”

* * *

_And what I mean by that_

_That my whole world changes_

_You make me feel things that I never felt_

_I wanna kiss you_

They are tucked into a corner booth of Giuseppe's Cucina Italiana, sharing a large piece of Meyer lemon cheesecake. Issa is a bit tipsy, enough to make her chatty. Jax is more than happy to let her ramble. She’s always at her most honest when she’s in this hazy state.

“Remember the summer before I left for the CIA?” she asks, hand loosely holding her glass.

Jax has his elbows on the table, fork sliding into their dessert. He’s a bit confused as to where this is going but nods.

“Well, more specifically that Jimmy guy’s party. We all kind of got separated and you found me sitting outside on his mom’s hammock.”

“Yeah. You were acting all weird and wouldn’t tell me why.”

She shakes her head, the wine swirling a bit too close to the glass’s rim. “It was on the tip of my tongue… to tell you how I felt.”

Jax looks up from the cheesecake, surprised by her admission. He’d fully accepted his feelings for her by that summer. Opie had wanted him to tell Issa before she left. Jax didn’t think that would be fair to either one of them though. So he helped her move and pretended his heart wasn’t breaking.

“I wanted to so bad, that’s why I was out there. I thought fresh air would knock some sense into me.”

“Why then?”

“Well, you weren’t dating anybody for one. Plus I figured if you didn’t feel the same, I was leaving in four days so it wouldn’t matter.”

She stops to take a huge bite of the cheesecake, eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the taste of it. Her O face and her “this tastes delicious” face are jarringly similar. Enough to render Jax a bit dumb for a minute or two.

“And you were sitting so close to me on that damn hammock. I had a hard time thinking straight. All I wanted to do was crawl into your lap and get lost in you.”

Jax smiles softly. “I wouldn’t have stopped you.”

“Of course not. You were a horny teenage guy. That’s why I didn’t do it,” she teases. “But god, I was so fucking gone on you. I thought I’d never feel something that strong again.”

He reaches for her hand across the table, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“But how I felt then? It pales in comparison to how much I love you now. It scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

“I’m right there with you, Isabelle.”

Her eyes find his and she’s looking at him with such adoration. Issa’s not always the best at being vulnerable, using sarcasm as a buffer. But there’s no barrier now.

“I just… I hope you know this is it for me. _You’re_ it for me. I’ve never wanted anyone else.”

He can see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She looks down at her lap, trying to blink them away. This is probably the most honest she’s ever been about her feelings for him. He’s always known she loves him, that’s never been in doubt. But this gives him goosebumps.

“Baby, I’ve always been yours. Just took the scenic route to get here.”

She lets out a watery laugh. “Good thing we finally got our shit together. I think Opie was about ready to lock us in a closet or some shit.”

“Nah. Donna kept telling him not to get involved. She knew we’d figure it out on our own.”

Their eyes lock, heat and lust mingling with reverence and devotion. Jax will never understand how he got so fucking blessed to have her. Hell, he may never fucking deserve her. But he’ll spend the rest of his life trying.

She shifts forward, her foot brushing not so innocently against his inner thigh. “Take me back to our room and remind me that I’m yours, Teller.”

* * *

_Kissin' you is all that I been thinking of_

_Kissin' you is ooh....ooh_

_Oh yeah, I wanna kiss you_

_Kissin' you is all that I been thinking of_

_Kissin' you is ooh....ooh_

Jax slowly drags his cock out of Issa before thrusting back in. His hand is cupping her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. Their eyes never leave each other, an intensity blazing in both of them. He swivels his hips and hits _that_ spot, chuckling as he watches her arch into him. There’s a lone bead of sweat making its way down the middle of her chest. Jax leans forward, flicking his tongue to catch it. His mouth moves over to her left nipple, scraping his teeth over it before licking away the sting.

They have been tangled up in each other for what seems like hours. Jax is intoxicated by how amazing she feels wrapped around him. Her left leg is thrown over his hip and she is pressing herself impossibly close to him. She lifts slightly off the bed, which causes his dick to sink further into her. He drops his forehead on her shoulder and has to breathe hard to keep from coming.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll never get enough of you,” he whispers in her ear.

She brings him down for a heated kiss, her fingernails lightly trailing up and down his back. Jax hisses, his dick getting even harder inside her. He loves that hint of pain and she knows it. He can’t stop himself from pushing into her a little more roughly. And god, the way she moans in response, raspy and keening, has him doing it again.

She opens her eyes, a hand touching the side of his face. “Te quiero con todo mi corazón.”

Jax will never tire of hearing her say she loves him, in any language. Since that night on the clubhouse roof over a year ago, they have fallen deeper and deeper for each other. His love for her is all consuming. It frightens him sometimes, how much power Issa has over him. Her admission of the same fear at dinner only makes him love her more.

Jax licks his thumb and uses it to trace circles at the bottom of her clit. He discovered, quite by accident, that she is extremely sensitive there. When he applies a bit of pressure, she practically screams. Her juices slide down his fingers as she comes yet again. He has never been with a woman that is so responsive to his touch. It is hotter than anything he’s ever experienced in his entire life.

_You're my pride and joy_

_You're my baby boy_

_People ask me how I feel about you_

_They ask me if I love you (yeah)_

_Am I crazy for you (yeah yeah yeah)_

Watching her succumb one more time is his undoing. He grabs her right thigh and moves it higher up his waist, getting an even deeper angle. When he has her positioned the way he wants, he shifts to hover over her. Balancing his weight on his forearms, he snaps his hips forward, driving into Issa’s velvety wet heat. He is relentless, hitting the same spot with precision. She is clawing at his back, practically sobbing as he pushes her closer and closer to another release.

“Cum for me, baby girl, wanna feel that beautiful pussy strangling my dick.”

His voice is commanding, a tone that gets her off fast. He grabs both her wrists and holds them down above her head. She submits to him so completely and without any hesitation.

“God yes, I’m so close!”

She barely gets the words out before he feels her contract around him. He is mesmerized by the sight of her wanton pleasure. She forcefully grabs the nape of his neck and fucks her tongue into his mouth as she rides out her orgasm. It’s all overwhelming for him and his hips stutter as he cums inside her. They exchange sloppy, breathless kisses as both of them come down from their highs. Issa wraps her arms around him, bringing him closer to her chest. He rests his forehead against hers, all the while whispering how much he loves her.

What he finds most humbling, something that always leaves him breathless, is how she returns that love so freely. It’s something he doesn’t quite think he deserves but he will never let it go.


	4. Let's Stay Together

_Let’s Stay Together - Al Green_

_I, I'm I'm so in love with you_

_Whatever you want to do_

_Is all right with me_

_Cause you make me feel so brand new_

_And I want to spend my life with you_

“Who was your first?” Issa asks.

They’re heading home, Issa’s hand dangling out the window as they fly down the highway.

Jax shakes his head, pulling a cigarette from the pack on his dashboard. “Not answering that.”

“Because you don’t want to or because you can’t remember?”

“Because any time a woman asks about your sex history, it ends in either tears or bloodshed.”

“Why the fuck would it end in bloodshed?”

Jax gives her a sheepish look, mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?”

He sighs, taking a drag of his cigarette to delay the inevitable. “When they find out you slept with their sister. And stepmom.”

Issa can only stare, mouth wide enough to catch a whole swarm of flies.

“In my defense, the sisters didn’t look remotely alike. And it’s not like I was asking for last names back then.”

Issa only manages to blink. The rest of her face still set in an impressive interpretation of The Scream.

“Can you stop looking at me like that?”

She snaps her mouth shut but the shock is still easily identifiable. “Sorry. I just didn’t realize you had a family kink.”

Jax wants to bang his head against his steering wheel. This is why he hates talking about his past with Issa. It’s not that he’s ashamed of it but he doesn’t want it tainting what they have now. He can’t change the fact that he was… overly friendly with the female population of Charming. But he’d rather not hold up his encounters for Issa to examine.

“I don’t have a family kink, I didn’t know they were related! Can we just… can we talk about something else?”

Issa is quiet for a moment. When Jax steals a glance at her, he can tell she’s fighting not to say something.

“Fine. Just say whatever you’re chomping at the bit to say.”

“I bagged me a Casanova!”

That is not at all what Jax thought she would say. It startles a laugh out of him.

“I’m kinda proud of you.”

“What? Why?” Jax eyes her skeptically.

Issa looks nothing but sincere. “You can come off cocky, and slightly slutty…”

“Hey!”

“Oh honey. Stop trying to defend your non-existent virtue.”

“Can you get to the part where you’re proud of me?”

Issa raises her hands in a show of surrender. “Okay, okay! What I’m trying to get at is given your past, some would think you’d have trouble being in a relationship. But if anything, you’ve been the more grounded of the two of us. It’s just… nice to know you care about me enough to give all that up.”

Jax reaches for her hand. He brings it to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles.

“I didn’t give anything up, baby. I gained you.”

And he absolutely means it. He’s never felt deprived or suffocated by what they have. He just feels goddamn lucky.

She moves her hand to his cheek, the sweetest smile on her face. “You know, from anyone else that would sound corny.”

Jax shrugs. They both know he means it. He doesn’t have to convince her otherwise. Which makes it easier for him to answer her original question. “It makes me sound bad but I don’t remember her name.”

Issa scrunches her eyebrows together, not privy to his internal train of thought.

“My first,” he sees the understanding dawning on Issa’s face. “I was 13 and Opie and I were at this high school party, trying to be cool. I got drunk, started making out with some girl and before I knew it…”

“Do you remember any of it or did the alcohol make it all fuzzy?”

“I remember I came embarrassingly fast. I got the condom on and less than five minutes later, it was over.”

Issa is fighting hard not to laugh. “Glad you built up your stamina since then.”

“Thanks, babe. Really sweet.”

That makes her break out into a full body laugh. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Whatever,” Jax mutters but there’s no heat behind his words. “I told you mine, so who was yours?”

“A guy from my Culinary History class at CIA. He seemed nice and I kind of… well…”

Issa is biting her bottom lip, glancing at Jax. She seems almost bashful, a word no one in their right mind ever associated with her.

She blows out a puff of air. “Don’t laugh.”

Although clearly confused, Jax nods his agreement.

“I kind of always hoped you’d be my first. But nothing happened that summer before I went to college. I figured you weren’t interested in me like that. So I slept with Daryl just to get the whole virginity business over with.”

Jax is genuinely shocked. Issa is terrible at flirting. Awful really. Looking back now, he supposes there were moments that summer when she _thought_ she was flirting with him. But he never knew she wanted him to be her first.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Like what? ‘Hey Jax, I know we’ve been friends since we were both in diapers, but would you mind popping my cherry?’”

“That would have definitely worked.”

Issa rolls her eyes. “Anyways, it was awkward and over fast. Just like a first time should be.”

“I would have made it good for you,” Jax says, voice a little huskier.

Issa shivers and it has nothing to do with the temperature in the truck.

“I know. That’s why I wish it was with you.”

Jax pulls off to the shoulder of the road. He stops the truck and brings Issa in for a searing kiss. It’s possessive and hungry and leaves them both a bit stupid.

“I may not have been your first but I’ll definitely be your last,” he promises before drowning himself in her once more.

* * *

_Let me say that since, baby, since we've been together_

_Ooh, loving you forever_

_Is what I need_

_Let me, be the one you come running to_

_I'll never be untrue_

“Donna told me there’s a house for rent in their neighborhood.” Issa mentions as they eat lunch at In and Out.

Jax swipes a fry from her plate, dipping it in his vanilla shake. He tries to appear calm on the outside but inside he’s freaking out. He tries to keep his voice steady so as not to give away his panic.

“Really?

Issa nods. She has that look on her face, the one where she tries to appear blasé and is anything but. Her face is far too expressive. That’s why she is shit at playing poker. That and her tendency to mutter under her breath what cards she has in her hand.

“And my lease is up at the end of the month.”

“Is that so?” Jax feigns ignorance. This is not at all how he wanted this to go and he needs a moment to mentally adjust his plan.

Issa huffs impatiently. She drops her burger and stares him down. He just keeps grazing on her fries. He decides this could be fun, screwing with her and maybe even getting _her_ to ask _him_.

“You should go take a look at it,” he suggests.

She narrows her eyes at him. He tries not to break but her petulant toddler vibe is too much. When he starts to laugh, she throws a fry at him.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. But if there’s something you’d like to ask, I’m all ears.”

His face softens when he sees the nervous set of her shoulders. For all her confidence in most areas of her life, she still has some vulnerabilities. He realizes this is one of them and it both warms and hurts his heart.

He can tell she’s giving herself a mental pep talk. She finally gives a firm nod, sits up straight and looks him in the eye.

“Since we’ve already fornicated before marriage, how’d you like to add living together to your list of soul damning sins?”

“Man, you sure know how to sweet talk a fella.”

Issa snorts out a laugh. “I’m all about the fairytale, baby.”

“Well since I’ve already signed a lease on that house, I suppose you can move in with me.”

Jax waits for his words to register. When they do, she throws a napkin, her empty cup and her burger wrapper at him.

“You asshole! When were you going to tell me?”

He rubs the back of his neck, scrunching up his face. “I was actually going to take you over there tomorrow. Ma and Lyla helped me decorate the backyard. I had a whole speech planned and everything.”

For the second time today, Issa is speechless. She doesn’t say anything for a nerve wracking amount of time. When she does, it’s so soft, Jax almost misses it. “What was the speech?”

Jax blows out a relieved breath. “Well, I was gonna have some Al Green playing in the background.”

“Naturally,” she says, smiling fondly at him.

“And I was gonna tell you that you mean everything to me. That waking up to you every morning is my idea of heaven. That I wanna argue about where to put the couch and get frustrated because there’s a screw missing from the bookcase we’re trying to put together. That I wanna make a home with you. Hell, that you already are my home.”

Issa has just about turned into a pile of mush. Jax searches her face and is blown away by the sheer intensity of her beautiful hazel eyes. He places a gentle hand on her cheek and his breath stutters when she leans into it.

“That’s not a bad speech, Teller.”

“Yeah, I suppose. Didn’t plan on doing it in the middle of an In-and-Out though.”

“There ain’t nothing more romantic than the smell of sizzling meat and the sounds of children throwing tantrums,” Issa deadpans. “I’m hoping you propose at someplace a bit more classy though, like Fatbutger.”

Jax can’t help but chuckle. Especially since there’s a small velvet box waiting patiently in Gemma’s drawer. It’s been there for a few months now in fact. But there’s no rush. He knows this beautiful woman in front of him will one day be his wife. Moving in together is only the first step.

_Oh baby_

_Let's, let's stay together ('gether)_

_Lovin' you whether, whether_

_Times are good or bad, happy or sad_

_Oh, oh, oh, oh, yeah_

_Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad_


End file.
